by Alta Hensley
"I will tell you now," Papa said. He continued to keep his voice low. "It is as I said before, little Eliza, I wanted to investigate what type of school this was for my sister. I wanted the very best, and Ashby has a reputation, but it also harbors a hint of mystery, do you not agree?"
Eliza would not have thought anything at all strange about Ashby before being part of the secret school of littles, but now that she was being trained to become little, it did seem a bit peculiar to her. "You suspected the school of littles?" Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "Surely if you knew, others may, as well. Oh, this cannot be good, Mr. Lockwood."
"You are to address me as 'Papa,'" he reprimanded, his tone sharp. "No. I had not been made aware of the secret littles' school. Even when I first saw you, I did not understand the dress you wore or why you were crying."
She reached for her tea, taking a sip, her eyes on the steam as it wafted upward into the air. "You must have suspected something to sneak in without permission." It seemed a rather bold move for a gentleman who desired to send his sister to the chateau. Did he not worry about being caught?
Papa nodded and sipped the tea from his porcelain cup. "I did have some curiosity, given the difficulty of obtaining an invitation from the headmaster. Not only were references required, but one could not merely show up. I found that peculiar and, as a journalist, I could not help but feel the curiosity tugging further when I saw you."
"You write for the newspaper?" Eliza gasped, her eyes widened as she shook her head. "You cannot talk of this place to anyone, Papa. Please, I like it here." Would he destroy her happiness because of a careless attempt to divulge Ashby's secret? Why would he do that to her? She was overthinking what he did. Journalists reported the news they had been given; they did not make stories and reveal their personal desires in an article.
"Drink your tea before it gets cold." He sipped more of the dark liquid, blowing gently as the top layer shifted with his breath. "You are safe here, little Eliza. I would do no such thing to jeopardize that fact."
It was more than about being safe at Ashby, though, for if he did reveal to anyone the secret of the littles' school, many would not be safe. The ladies' reputations would be ruined, including those at the finishing school. Which meant his sister would no longer have the ability to marry a wealthy husband who could take care of her.
Eliza smiled weakly, not wanting to break the spell between them. She had been foolish to think he would write an article about Ashby. Surely he must have signed away the ability to speak of this place when he enrolled his sister and paid her tuition. "Do you like what you do?" She sipped her tea, enjoying the warmth as it slid down her throat. Her fingers grabbed a biscuit, taking a taste, not caring if it spoiled her dinner. Nanny Agnes had been kind enough to bring them tea without a fuss. If Eliza had asked for it without Papa visiting, her nanny surely would have turned her down.
Papa nodded, placing the cup on the table. "Yes, I do enjoy my work. At times it gives me the ability to see different parts of the city while also staying close to home. It is not often I have the pleasure of speaking about what I enjoy doing."
"Why is that?" she asked.
Papa smiled warmly and stood. "Those are enough questions today, Eliza. You are to be little, and with that comes the luxury of not having to worry about being grown up. Come, I spoke with Headmaster Philip, and it was decided that I will plug your bottom this afternoon."
Her eyes widened and her cheeks instantly flushed. "Papa, you cannot!" She had never had a man touch her bottom and place an implement into it. Today he had spanked her, which had made her heart race and her quim throb, but it went beyond the intimate acts of what he suggested. He was going to have to explore her bottom hole and push the glass bulb in past her pink pucker. The room sweltered and she worried that she might faint. "Please. I do not wish to be plugged, Papa. Why must you demand this when I have been good?" She felt there was no reason to face a punishment when she was on her best behavior, at least since he had spanked her.
"It is not a punishment, little Eliza. Consider it a gift to me. Your submission makes me happy, and you want to please me, do you not?" Papa asked.
Nodding vigorously with wide eyes, she reached for his hand. "Yes, Papa. I will do whatever it takes to please you." She squeezed his hand, nervous for the plug to enter her bottom. It was not that she had never worn one, though usually it was before bed when she had been naughty. Nanny Agnes administered the plug as a disciplinary device. The fact her papa wanted it for his pleasure made her nipples harden and her cunny tingle.
He guided Eliza to the bed and she sat on the edge, waiting anxiously, her stomach filled with butterflies.
"Nanny Agnes, could you show me where the plug for her bottom is located?" Papa asked.
Eliza's head swam and her cheeks burned. Did his words have the power to start a fire in her quim? It felt as though he most certainly was capable of trying. How had he done so, by just asking where the plug was located? What would happen when he removed her bloomers and examined her bottom? Thankfully, the sting from her spankings earlier had vanished, but she did not feel quite ready to have his hand on her bare skin so soon.
"Yes, of course." Nanny Agnes got up from the rocking chair and briskly strode with purpose to the dresser, pulling open the drawer, and in one swift movement she retrieved the black leather box inside. "I would suggest using the biggest plug. She has had plenty of training, and will be ready soon for her papa to take her."
Eliza's eyes widened. "Take me where?" she asked. She had not fully come to terms with what plugging her bottom meant. She had assumed it was to teach her to be docile, as it had been used quite often after a vigorous paddling to her backside.
Papa's eyes shone as he retrieved the implement, along with a jar of lubricant, and brought it over to the bed. "We will remove your bloomers, little Eliza."
She inhaled loudly, her hands shaking as her nerves felt as though they were on fire. "I do not want to."
"I was not asking, Eliza," Papa said. He placed the objects onto the mattress and reached for her hips, sliding his hands up under her dress.
Her breathing hitched, surprised by his boldness in front of Nanny Agnes. The older woman made no attempt to stop him or shoo him away to do the task herself.
Eliza lay back on the mattress, fanning her face as the room spun.
Papa's touch grazed the delicate skin of her sides, and gently he eased down her bloomers. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on anything that would keep her scent of arousal from wafting up toward him. Did he know how easily he set her body aflame? What made her so uncontrollable when he touched her? No one else had that power, not even Preston; not that he had ever so much as even kissed her.
She hungered to feel her papa's lips against her bare skin and his breath on her lips. He had only so much as kissed her cheek. It was not enough. She wanted more from him. Did he not crave more too? When had need begun to outweigh the control she felt as a young woman? The yearnings of a child, wanting without knowing the cost or consequences, seemed to take over.
His fingers were firm yet gentle, commanding as he removed her bloomers and bent down to pull the cotton entirely off her legs, letting the material tumble onto the floor. He did not so much as lift the hem of her dress and yet she felt as though she was fully exposed, the proximity and intimacy already made her heart race.
"Roll over. We are not done," Papa said.
Little Eliza did not think she could feel any hotter or more nervous when she rolled onto her stomach, obeying his every command.
Chapter X
Charley tried everything in his power to control his hardening dick. His cock throbbed, and he prayed Eliza and Nanny Agnes had not noticed his discomfort while sweat beaded at his forehead.
Eliza wiggled her bottom and did as instructed, rolling onto her stomach. He smiled, proud that she listened to him. His hands itched to lift the hem of her gown, but he was taking his time, savoring the momen
t. If he could not make her come again, he was certainly going to make a lasting memory for the two of them, three if you counted Nanny Agnes, who would not leave the room.
"Be sure to use enough grease," Agnes instructed, coming to stand beside the bed, watching his every move and action.
"I am quite capable of working out how to use a bottom plug," Charley said. He stared hard at Nanny Agnes, silently demanding she back away, not wanting to be rude, though he would do whatever was necessary to keep his little one safe. When exactly he had started wanting a little for himself, Charley was not quite sure. However, when he saw her that day in the yellow dress, she had stolen a piece of his heart. Now he wanted to give her the rest.
"I will watch, to ensure you do it right."
Agnes stayed at his side, annoying him to no end. Couldn't she leave for a few minutes to allow them even a hint of privacy? Perhaps he could send her away to get something else, like she had with the tea earlier. He just needed to think up an excuse—and quickly.
"Nanny, would you be kind enough to clean up the tray and sweets? I would like to use the table when we are done so that little Eliza might do some quiet coloring." He knew she had pastels in the playroom, he had spotted them earlier, but Charley wanted his little one all to himself for the day. Was that such a terrible request?
"Very well," her nanny replied, her brass heels clicking over the marble floor with intent as she placed the cups and spoons back onto the tray, carrying it out of the room.
He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have a few moments of privacy with his darling Eliza. Did she realize how much he cared for her already? There was something about her that struck a chord in his heart, making him feel protective of her. He had been foolish even to mention that he was a journalist. She had seen right through him, and if a young woman he was just getting to know could catch what he was up to, Headmaster Philip would not be pleased. He needed to be careful, perhaps use a name that was not his own when he published the article.
With the door shut, he lifted the hem of her gown, revealing her splotched bottom. He could not hide, nor did he try, the smile that graced his face. Gently he patted her bum. "Onto all fours." He did not so much as say please or ask if this was what she wanted, because he was in charge. He was her papa, and he knew what was best for her well being.
He had taken quickly to the role of papa, feeling at ease with being in control, as it came naturally to him. He waited only a moment for Eliza to do as he asked, her bottom poised perfectly into the air.
"Beautiful." His hand caressed her backside, grazing the tortured skin from her wrongdoings. Had she learned from her mistakes, or would she repeat them again? He actually hoped there might be a naughty streak in her so he could have the privilege of punishing her again. Gradually, he separated the cheeks of her bottom, smiling as he caught sight of her perfectly pink pucker. Everything about his little Eliza was flawless to him.
"You think you know what to expect," he said, leaning closer, blowing a soft stream of air over her rosebud.
"Oh!" she gasped, shock evident in her voice.
"But I have never touched you here. Only your nanny, little Eliza, and all that is about to change." He kissed down her back, listening for the sound of the door, unsure how Nanny Agnes would respond to his attention on her bottom. He did not wish to be reprimanded for taking what he wanted from little Eliza. She was in his care.
"Papa," she squealed, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip. Was she trying to contain how she felt?
"I want to hear your breath, your moans, the sound when I slip my fingers in past your tight little hole," he said, moving back slightly as the door squeaked open. He greased up two digits before gliding one, quickly followed by the second, easily into her bottom. It was clear to him that she had been practicing with a plug. Had that been the only implement in her bottom?
His cock demanded attention, and he yearned to remove his trousers and plunge his aching member in past her bottom hole. Sweat coated his skin, and he took a few calming breaths, focusing instead on his little Eliza. Today was about her pleasure and enjoyment, so that in a few days he could be the one on the receiving end.
Charley thrust his fingers in and out, stretching her tight hole. She may have been used to such attention but it did not discount the fact that he could see her cunny glistening with arousal. He wanted to lick and taste her folds, tongue her pearl, all while he listened to her moans as she clenched down and trembled around him. More importantly, he needed to find another reason for Nanny Agnes to leave the room.
Upon the nanny's return, she placed a set of paper and pastels on the table for little Eliza to play with when they were done.
At the rate Charley was going, he never wanted the moment to end. Eliza was being good and he had no reason to end what they both desired. With two fingers pushing past and inside her bottom, he slowly withdrew, adding more lubrication as he eased her entrance, teasing her tight ring and greasing her bottom thoroughly before he finally moved for the plug.
"Papa." Eliza whimpered when nothing was inside her body anymore. She desired it too, and since he could not push his own member in past her bottom, he would make her tremble from the bulb.
Thoroughly adding enough grease to the plug, he poised it at her entrance, teasing her, circling her rosebud as she thrust her hips into the air. "Steady, little Eliza," he warned. Charley liked being in control. He did not wish to give it up, ever.
She moaned softly under her breath, quietly begging for more as he rested one hand on her lower back and the other guided the plug in past her tight ring.
Her lips parted, and her head bent forward as the plug stretched and forced her body to succumb to its larger size. The flesh of her hole stretched around it as he slowly moved it forward.
"It is too big, Papa. It is far too big. Please, please, please. Please put your fingers back in my bottom hole instead!"
"Shh… take a deep breath." He paused and allowed her to calm. "Relax your bum and take it in. Be a good girl. You can do it."
He continued to push the remainder of the plug all the way inside, hearing her moan. "Papa, please. No, more," she finally begged. "I cannot."
"But you already have," he said, once nothing but the plug's handle remained visible. "You are done. Come now, let us put your bloomers back on." He patted her bottom lightly and bent down, reaching for her cotton undergarments. He sat on the bed, pulling her onto his lap, desiring to cuddle her as he helped her redress. Ignoring the harsh stare of Nanny Agnes, he held her close, his arms wrapped around her petite frame. Occasionally he gave her little kisses on her cheek, her forehead, and the top of her head.
Did it hurt as it filled her bottom? Charley did not wish to cause her pain, which was why he wanted to be the one plugging her bum instead of Nanny Agnes. Surely Eliza enjoyed his attention much more than her nanny's.
He felt her hand fall upon his chest. Charley's heart beat faster and stronger. She smelled lovely, of lavender and vanilla as she curled up against him; her delicate and floral scent was more intoxicating than any libation.
"Do I make you happy?" Eliza asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes. I cannot remember feeling so at ease," he confessed. With the responsibility of his sister no longer upon his shoulders and Eliza as his little one, his life felt as though it had fallen perfectly into place.
Charley pressed a soft kiss to her temple before guiding her feet on to the floor to stand. "Would you like to do some coloring? I had Nanny Agnes bring in your pastels so that we might spend time together."
She smiled and nodded, climbing down from his lap, grimacing slightly, probably from the object squeezed between her round cheeks.
"Does the plug hurt inside you?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. It just feels full. It makes me feel like I… like I… need you. I need you to be my papa, and I need to be your little girl. It makes me feel submissive."
He pulled out the chair for her to sit
down.
Eliza stared at the wooden chair for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh. She pushed her bottom out, sitting down rather awkwardly.
Charley did his best not to laugh or stare, quite amused, but feeling for her all the same. "Comfortable?" He sat back down across from her and watched as she reached for a pastel, holding it up to the blank page.
She cracked a grin, staring up at him with a wry smile. "Do not tease me, Papa. Unless you truly wish to know what a plug up one's bum feels like."
He tried to contain his laughter, pleased that she felt relaxed and confident speaking her mind to him. "Very well, little Eliza. We shall save that pleasure solely for you and your precious little bottom."
Chapter XI
Eliza had not wanted to say goodbye to Papa, but understood that he had to return home. Bedtime had been far too early for her liking, but she refrained from making a scene with her nanny. In fact, she tried to be extra good so that she might be rewarded with time with just her and Papa alone.
The worry and fear she felt earlier in the day about seeing him again had vanished. She trusted that he would return. Never before had anyone paid her such great attention, not even her nanny. Eliza did not dare pretend that he loved her, but she also would not deny herself the moment to be happy. The opportunity that had presented itself earlier with her papa would return. The plug remained in her bottom all through the night until her nanny removed it. Would Papa spread her cheeks and administer another plug this afternoon? That was assuming he returned today.
Eliza bathed and dressed, following her nanny's instructions with pride as she bounced around excitedly, staring out of the window, waiting for any sign of her papa. She knew that if he did arrive, the window facing the garden would not give her so much as a hint of his presence, and yet she still felt compelled to watch the flowers and bench where they had first met. There was something about the serene scene that made her desire to spend time outside again. Would her nanny let her?
